I complied. A toss of my hand swept the long hair to the sides of my breasts. I felt more uncovered in this moment than if I’d sat there naked. I looked down. My bra was a half-cup style that meant more breast rose above the satin cup.
“Lovely, absolutely lovely. A moon and stars tattoo over your heart. The way you described it before, I suspected it was really there. I remember you telling me the design is precious to you. I hope you share the story sometime. But for now, gorgeous woman, please unclasp your bra and expose this masterpiece on my screen.” He leaned back in his desk chair.
His image in the camera clearly showed the outline of a very large, very stiff cock held secure in his jeans. And, yes, he had told me he had gotten hard in several emails and our earlier chat... but I saw it for myself now. His desire was real, as real as my own. He was hard for me, because of me. And the sight made me bold. “You want to see more, do you? And what will I get for taking off my bra?”
He laughed. “I’ll remove my shirt, of course. Does this sound fair?”
“For now.”
“Temptress.”
I smiled at his words. Ever so slowly I reached behind with both hands and unclasped the bra, with one hand coming round to hold the cups in place. I eased both straps from my shoulders. “How’s this?” I asked, knowing full well he wanted my breasts bare.
“Such a beautiful tease. Did no one ever teach you not to tease men, V?”
I laughed now. “Never.”
“Teasers get what’s coming to them. It’s all part of turnabout.”
I swallowed. “Then here...” I said as I slowly lowered one cup and fully exposed my left breast.
The outline of his massive cock seemed to get broader right before my eyes. Emboldened, I lowered the other cup until my breasts were completely bare. I cupped them with my hands, lifting them for the camera, my nipples tight and tingling.
“Exquisite. I can see all the shades of you, my sweet. Yes, English roses, all shades of pink. Be my fingers, V. If my hands were cupping your beautiful breasts, my fingers would be compelled to roll each nipple and areola.”
I rolled my fingers firmly, the wildly dancing nerve impulses zinging me right to my clit. My panties were soaking wet now. Carried away, I pinched harder and made myself whimper.
“Yes, V, I would make you moan. I would kneel at your feet and bury my face between your beautiful breasts and shower your hard nipples and soft creamy flesh with kisses. I’d suckle you, first one nipple then the other...so plump, so succulent...”
“Oh you are a sexy man. Take off your shirt for me.”
I watched him unbutton the shirt. It was slow, deliberate, like a striptease. My clit began to throb. When his body twisted to remove it completely, I could see his iron ribs, his tight, trim body. He had a light sable furring over his chest just as I had imagined. Oh my god, he was splendid. I wanted to see the rest. “I’d do the same, though your little nipples are much smaller than mine. I’d treat you to every description we’ve shared.”
“Mmm, yes, my sweet. We’d bring each other such delightful sensations. Would you do something more for me? Would you arrange your shiny tresses so your rosy-tipped breasts peek through the red-gold silk?”
I arranged myself as he asked, the hair covering more than halfway down the fullness, my nipples peeking through. “Like this?”
“Yes, you look like a goddess, V. Do something more for me, please?”
“What would you like?” I asked, sensing he wanted to see all of me.
“Stand and pull your pants off. I desire to see you as Venus rising on the foam...”
I stood and slowly did a striptease of my own. I left my panties on.
“You have very nice legs. If I were beside you, I’d be compelled to run my hands over them. To part them...to...”
I laughed lightly. “You’re making me hot talking like that!”
“That is my intention.”
“Well, you’re succeeding.”
“Good. Now turn for me. Let me see you from behind.”
I complied again, turning slowly, wearing nothing but panties and fuzzy blue socks. A devilish thought came to me, and I hooked my thumbs into the elastic and pulled upward, the material stretching and defining and resting between the rounded cheeks. I slid them down, bending low as I did, my back still to the camera. I knew he could see intimately between cheeks and thighs. He could see the sweep of my hair to the middle of my back when I rose, knew too he appreciated what he saw by his next words.
“My god, you are amazing. Turn, lovely one, show me the rest of your charms.”
Kicking both panties and drawstring pants aside, I heard him laugh. “Adorable, I love your little socks.”
I laughed with him. “Hey, my feet get cold!”
“Then by all means keep them on,” he said, the smile still lingering in his tone.
For no reason the day before I had trimmed my pubic hair down to the skin, not shaved, but so short as to appear as nothing more than a ginger shadow on my cleft. What will you think? I silently asked him as I turned to face the camera.
“Your womanly outlines tempt me. Such a sensual creature you are. Widen your stance just a little more, V. Yes, my sweet, a little more. I see that you do glisten. Are you aroused for me? Say it, tell me why your inner thighs are wet and glistening.”
I deliberately reached my hand down to gather the wetness he so hotly referred to and showed the camera. “Yes, I glisten. I am aroused to be standing here for you this way. Show me what I do to you.”
I watched him stand and unbutton and unzip his jeans. He stood in boxers, his cock jutting forward, large, straight out with a slight angle upward like a post in the center of a tent.
“Show me,” I said again.
He slid the boxers down. Oh my god, what a cock. He looked to be as long as my forearm and as thick as my wrist. His balls hung heavy, one ever so slightly higher than the other. I took my seat and said, “Turn for me, let me see all of you.”
He turned in place, trim side, trim thighs, very nice legs and ass. His cock was like a compass needle turning with his body. He too had a tattoo. I smiled when his turn brought it into full view. The tattoo was on his upper back to one side of his spine. It was a shooting star. I made a mental note to ask him to tell me its story sometime.
“Do you approve, my beauty? This is what you do to me.” He punctuated the last words as he turned by closing his hand around the base and pulling the skin back. The head was massive and shiny, a testament to how aroused he was. The very tip had a droplet of cum gleaming in the light of the computer screen.
“Mmm, yes, I approve.”
He sat down again, his legs spread before him, his cock large between his thighs. Holding it in his hand once more, he said, “Let me see you.”
I obeyed by putting one foot up on my desk. My pussy gaped open. “Is this what you wanted to see?”
“Oh, yes, now be my fingers. Splay yourself for me, show me all your hidden delights, V.”
I groaned inside. I could come so easily. I eyed the vibrating wand.
Both hands went to my dangling lips and parted them wide.
“So very wet. Tell me what you taste like, sweetheart.”
I slipped a finger inside, pumped it slowly for his benefit—and mine—withdrew it and brought it to my mouth. He couldn’t see, but he knew I tasted myself. “Mmmm...” I said for his ears.
His heavy cock twitched on screen. “Describe for me please...”
“First of all, I’m slippery, viscous...”
“Ready for my cock...”
“Mmmm, yesss, ready for your thick, hard cock.”
“And your taste...?”
“Mildly salty, mildly sweet. Hot, scented. Ready.”
He groaned and began to stroke his cock in earnest. “Oh, V, you make me burn. I won’t be able to go long this time. Come with me now. Use your fingers for me. Let me watch you work your little clit.”
Oh my god.
&
nbsp; I spread my cleft with my left hand, and with two fingers of my right, I began a frantic dance of rapid little circles. I could hear myself whimpering along the groans coming from the speakers before me. I watched him cup his balls with his other hand. His stroking hand gleamed wetly in the light of the computer screen. He was drenched in pre-cum. I said, “Yes, baby, stroke for me, harder.”
He did stroke harder, faster. That he did so at my command fired my blood and redoubled my efforts. He said, “Twirl your little hard bud for me. Tell me what you feel as it unfolds. Tell me, V.”
“Oh… I feel it... Mmmm...it’s building...a gathering…Oh...” I couldn’t speak anymore. I tried, but only a small hot growl came from the back of my throat. I worked my clit in a blur of fingers, whimpering now like a mindless animal.
“Come for me, V. Come now!” His climax erupted on screen. I watched it all as his belly tightened. Those great milky spurts and his heavy, breathy groan were my complete undoing. My belly tightened as well as all the gathering sensations coalesced. My back arched in the chair, and my muscles contracted as the climax hit me with the force of a tsunami.
“Ohhh...Mmmm... I’m commmmmmmming...oh mmmmmmm…” I cried out.
When the last wave washed over me, he spoke. “That had to be the most exquisite image, incomparable to anything I have seen in years. I wish I were there to hold you, to feel the remnant tremor and to see the afterglow I know paints your pale skin so prettily.” He used his discarded boxers to mop up.
Feeling somewhat high, I smiled. “I wish you were here to hold me too.” My next words came out on their own. “You’re beautiful, you know. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such…such... I mean that was so...so...powerful. Thank you.” For some inexplicable reason, I felt my eyes tearing up.
“Perhaps one day you’d allow me to make love to you and hold you afterward?” He hesitated before adding, “Beyond our computers?”
My heart skipped a beat. There was no denying the fact we placed the cart before the horse. Before I could answer, a dog, his dog presumably, was barking at the doorbell. He said, “Excuse me, sweetheart, someone is at the door.” I watched him rise from his chair, gather his clothes, and quickly dress. Unfortunately the camera angle was so low I could only see his lower half leave the room, not that seeing his behind in jeans was a bad thing. In the distance I could hear, “Okay, Roscoe, settle down. See, it’s only Jim.” The barking stopped, but dog toenails clicked excitedly on the floor. Jim was a friend. A moment later I heard S say, “Pour yourself a cup of coffee or grab a beer, I’ll be right back.”
Back in his desk chair he said, “I’m so sorry, my sweet. An old friend stopped by. He’s having relationship issues and needs to talk.” He sighed. “If this wasn’t important, I’d send him on his way. Please give me an hour or so. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“That’s not a problem. I have some things to do around here anyway. You must introduce me to Roscoe sometime,” I told him, knowing he could hear the smile in my voice.
He chuckled. “I hope to, in person. Please consider my words while I’m gone.” With that, the screen closed, leaving only my desktop wallpaper behind.
I briefly toyed with the concept of doing some paperwork, but my heart and mind weren’t in it. Instead they lingered on his suggestion of taking this odd relationship from the surreal internet world to the real world. Would I? Should I? It was hard to say. After our extremely intimate exchange of the last hour, I found myself even more head over heels for this faceless stranger, and I didn’t know a thing about him other than his profession and the city he lived in. Chicago was a big city too.
I thought about all the people who routinely used online dating as a way to meet outside of busy lives that really didn’t allow for the time it took to find compatible people to interact with. This wasn’t all that different, was it? Yes, it was different. There was an intimacy now, one that may have started with a flirtatious spark but was a full-blown blaze now. I knew most online dating unfolded over cups of coffee or dinner in an open public place. How could I sit across from this man and make small talk to get to “know” him after all we’d shared?
I got dressed and went for two more aspirin and another big glass of water, still feeling dehydrated from my little binge the night before. “Questions, questions, questions, ugh, my head,” I said aloud, feeling the throb of thinking too much pressing in from behind my eyes. Needing to be free of the direction my thoughts were headed, I turned on a marathon of old ’70s detective shows and stretched out on the couch. Little did I realize the remains of the hangover would cause me to sleep until the wee hours of the morning.
“Damn it,” I said to the “fix it and forget it” infomercial playing where Kojak had been when I closed my eyes. Looking at the blue LED light of my DVD player’s clock, I saw it was 3:00 a.m. Wrapping my robe around me, I headed outside, hoping the cold night air would clear my foggy head.
What a lovely clear autumn night it was. It was a sky just like this one the night I said my goodbyes in Greece. As a result of the Earth passing through Halley's Comet’s dust, the Orionids meteor shower made its appearance that night. Remembering, my eyes swept the sky. We stood there under the same crescent moon and twinkling stars, our arms around each other, willing the clock to turn back time. I remembered making a wish when several shooting stars, their white flames reflected in the ocean of darkness, zipped across the sky. Years had passed. It was time to let it all go. If I could send Dan packing, I could certainly make room for new memories. “Stop it and turn the page,” I said to myself, wiping my eyes on my terrycloth sleeve.
Why was I so emotional? Then it hit me. Simply put, I was scared. We had a nice thing going now, S and I. Flirtatious, hot, fun. What if it couldn’t hold up to the litmus test of reality? I wanted more, but what if I lost it all? Like Icarus flying to the sun on wax wings, would I too fall into a broken mass because I wanted too much?
I went to the computer and turned on my Skype. Of course he wasn’t on. “What did you expect?” I admonished myself. My mind worried over what S might think. Did he think the idea of meeting him was so abhorrent to me that I never looked back when I shut the computer off? I checked my email, holding my breath the whole time.
Dearest V, keeper of my soul,
I admit my first thought was you were done with me for asking for too much. Then my rational mind remembered your night out with friends. Perhaps you grew tired waiting for my return. Tomorrow is Saturday. Come, meet me halfway somewhere. Sleep well, my love.
Yours,
S
I gasped for air, not realizing I still held my breath. I wanted to meet him. I wanted to know him outside the artificial box. It was a chance I knew, but security was an illusion we humans convinced ourselves of. Maybe after all the intimacies we shared, if this meeting didn’t work out, we might at least part as friends. Filled with that resolve, I wrote back.
S,
You’re right, I did fall asleep. I’m sorry about that. I would have loved to talk and get to know you more. To that end, there is a lovely place in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, a grand Victorian mansion called the St. Moritz directly across from the lake. If you’ve never been there before, the water is a vibrant blue, almost as blue as the Mediterranean. Let’s have dinner there, and we can talk face to face.
Yours,
V
I clicked send, and to my great surprise, the chat box opened up on my screen.
I was hoping you’d come online.
You’re up late, or early.
I blame my friend Jim. He’s snoring like a freight train in the next room. I thought I’d give one last look on here before I tried to sleep again. You should hear this guy. Even Roscoe left the room. We may end up sleeping in my car!
I thought oh you poor thing. To him I wrote, I read your email.
And I read yours. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, V.
I smiled. I was feeling pretty happy too.
*
* * *
The next morning I checked my inbox and saw another email.
My Love,
On the outside chance you’d approve, I’ve taken a room at the St. Moritz, room 301. I’m told it has a spectacular view of the crystal blue waters. I have also arranged for dinner for two to be sent to my suite at 6:30. I assure you, if dinner and conversation is all we share, it will be enough. The prospect of meeting you face to face has me feeling light headed. I will leave something for you at the desk. Our unusual relationship is moving at lightning speed. The idea came to me as I was thinking of how you might be most comfortable. I don’t want to lose you, V. Not when I’ve just found you.
Yours,
S
p.s. My cell is 312-555-1789
I reread his email twice. My heartbeat had somehow made it to the back of my throat, it was pounding that hard. I was as nervous as a teenage girl on her first date. After a few short weeks, this was finally happening. I reached for the phone and speed-dialed a number but found only voicemail on the other end. That wasn’t a bad thing. I really wasn’t prepared for a barrage of questions. I had a date to prepare for, and there was a very good chance I’d be spending the night in Lake Geneva.
“Andrea? Hi, it’s me. Listen, I have a blind date tonight with that email guy Mr. S. Uh, the dating service didn’t give me his last name, so the other info I’m about to leave you with should work if you need to get a hold of me for any reason. Anyway, because it’s always good to let people know where you’re going and who’ll you’ll be seeing, here’s his info. He’s staying at the St. Moritz in Lake Geneva, room 301 and his number is 312-555-1789. Hey, one more thing. I think I’m in love! Later.”
With that I hung up and went to get a haircut. Good trims always made me feel good about my hair for a week or two, and Saturday was Jillian’s day at the hair salon. As popular as this new stylist was, I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait too long. I had a feeling, a warm bubble of possibility that sent me to the drug store for a small pack of condoms. Dr. Fischer had declared me as healthy as an ox when she checked on the IUD she’d given me to control my monthly cramps, but we lived in a world where caution was necessary. Anything might happen and I wanted to be sure I was ready for it.
Hermes Online (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 9